


Public Indecency

by cantmaintain



Category: Naruto
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Omorashi, Wetting, dubcon, falls into the whole "getting hard so you don't piss yourself" category, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantmaintain/pseuds/cantmaintain
Summary: There are a lot of long, boring meetings involved in running a village. Madara doesn't enjoy them on the best of days.Today's meeting is trying his patience, in more ways than one.(read the tags)





	Public Indecency

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to unedited piss hell, enjoy your stay. 
> 
> There could stand to be more naruto omo on this site. Feel free to leave (naruto omo) requests in the comments and I'll see what I can make happen.

Madara was on his fifth cup of tea of the day when the doors to his office burst open to reveal an irate Senju Tobirama. He took a delicate sip, looking across the top of the teacup to meet a pair of red eyes. “Yes?”

“Did you forget about the Clan Head meeting?” Tobirama asked, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at him murderously. 

Madara rolled his eyes and set his teacup down. “Of course not! It’s at three.”

Tobirama quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And what time is it now?”

Madara glanced at the clock hung across the room and felt the blood drain from his face. “Three…fifteen…Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit is right, Uchiha,” Tobirama snarled. “Come on, get up.”

Sighing, Madara stood, his bladder sending out a twinge as he did so. I should really use the bathroom before this meeting, he thought. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”

“Absolutely not,” the Senju snapped. “Do you know how bad it makes the both of us look when I have to delay a meeting to come find you? I refuse to let us be any later than we already are.”

Damn it, Madara thought. I’ll just have to hold it. Hopefully this meeting is short.

Three hours later, all hopes of a short meeting had been sent out to sea and subsequently dashed against the rocks in the middle of a huge fucking thunderstorm. His bladder had stopped sending faint twinges of pain and instead felt full and swollen. He had snaked a hand down to hold his crotch fifteen minutes ago.

Swallowing, he crossed his legs, trying not to squirm. Now that would be embarrassing to explain. Uchiha Madara, founder of Konoha, head of the Uchiha clan, masterer of the Mangekyou Sharingan, fidgeting like a child about to wet himself. A ridiculous notion.

He froze as his bladder pulsed and a drop of piss spilled out. It was only a tiny leak, but he could feel the damp spot on his underwear. Breathing in and out through his nose, he reevaluated the situation. Okay, so it’s slightly worse than I thought, he acknowledged. Another drop dribbled out. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck….

Pissing himself at a Clan head meeting was not an option. Madara would never live it down. He would have to leave Konoha and become a missing-nin, maybe take over the entire world to make sure that everyone was too afraid to talk about Uchiha Madara wetting himself in front of the most important people of Konoha. 

Shifting his weight, Madara glanced around. Nobody was paying attention to him, more focused on the intense discussion on…something going on between the Nara and the Hyuuga. He was running out of time, and didn’t exactly have a lot of options, but…

I can’t believe I’m about to do this, Madara thought to himself, breathing in for a count of three before slowly moving the hand already grasping his dick through his pants. His bladder throbbed, but he stroked himself up and down, slowly, trying to force himself into hardness.

Doing his best to appear nonchalant, Madara gazed blankly ahead, his expression one of polite interest. He wasn’t prepared for Tobirama to suddenly turn his head and meet him in the eye. 

Against his best interest, Madara’s dick twitched as Tobirama gazed steadily at him. It’s like he knows, Madara thought, even as he told himself there was no way that he could tell. He knows you’re jerking off at an official meeting, he knows you’re trying not to piss yourself, he knows, he knows….

He could feel his face getting redder and redder, and only hoped that his hair hid him well enough that Tobirama couldn’t tell. He’d probably think you were disgusting, a voice at the back of his head mutters, and all of a sudden it’s all Madara can think about. Tobirama striding over, pushing his legs apart, whispering into his ear how pathetic he was that he couldn’t even hold his own piss, that he had to resort to public indecency just to keep himself from losing control where he sat. Madara, he’d murmur, are you going to be a good boy for me, Madara? Or are you going to piss yourself like the disgusting wretch you are? Madara gripped his dick harder. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Tobirama’s, even though he knew his flush had to be visible now.

Unexpectedly, Tobirama cleared his throat, still holding eye contact with Madara. “I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?” he asked the room. “It’s been a long meeting. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

Yes, yes, finally, yes! Madara thought victoriously as his fellow Clan Heads began to pack up their things and leave. Finally, he could get up and run to the bathroom, dignity be damned. 

There was just one problem, he realized. Well, maybe two. One, he was still hard. Two, if he got up, he was going to piss. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on willing his bladder to hold on just a minute longer. 

“Madara.” A deep voice interrupted his thoughts. His eyes flew open as a jet of warm urine shot out of the tip of his dick. A solid second passed before he could get the flow under control. He knew without having to look down that his pants now had an undeniable wet spot on the crotch.

He glanced nervously at Tobirama. “What do you want, Senju?” he growled.

“You looked a bit red during the meeting,” Tobirama replied demurely. “I just wanted to make sure you were feeling well.” He glanced over his shoulder as the last of the other Clan Heads filed out the door before walking slowly around the table.

“I’m fine!” Madara hissed. “I feel great! Never better! Stay over there!”

Tobirama ignored him, continuing to approach. His eyes flickered down to where Madara’s hand disappeared beneath the tablecloth. “Hm. Let me see.”

Madara didn’t think it was possible for him to get any redder. “What? No! What the fuck, Senju?”

Tobirama narrowed his eyes. “Madara. Let me see.”

A shudder wracked through Madara’s spine at his tone. Whining, he pushed himself out from under the table, revealing the hand still gripping his erection and the wet spot that his shirt didn’t quite hide.

Tobirama smirked. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get to your breaking point.”

“I—what?” Madara gasped. He pressed himself against his chair as Tobirama leaned into his personal space.

“I know you like to hold it, Madara,” he whispered. “I’ve seen you squirm around in your desk before rushing off to the bathroom. I was wondering when I’d get to see you lose control.”

“I—I don’t—” Madara tried to protest. “I’m not—I don’t get off on that, Senju, what the fuck—” 

“I think you can call me Tobirama at this point, don’t you, Madara?” Tobirama murmured. “Since you want to be a good boy for me so badly.” His hand reached lower and gave Madara a firm stroke through his pants.

Madara realized suddenly that the heavy panting in the room was coming from him. “God—Tobirama—I can’t hold it,” he whined. “I—it’s coming out, I can’t—”

Tobirama moved his hand up and, before Madara could say anything, pressed firmly on his swollen bladder. Madara cried out, even as he began to release, pissing hard into his pants. The spot on his crotch grew shiny and wet, and he could feel it dripping through the bottom of the chair to form a puddle underneath him. He fought hard to catch his breath, even though he could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and Tobirama just kept pushing on his bladder.

Finally, he was empty. His pants were completely soaked and, to his horror, he was still hard, even under Tobirama’s shrewd gaze—oh, who am I kidding, he thought, at least half of that hard-on is because of Tobirama. He swallowed and glanced up at the other man.

Tobirama’s normally pale face was flushed, and his eyes were half-lidded. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and—

“Are you turned on by this?” Madara said. 

Tobirama laughed, giving Madara’s dick a firm stroke. “Maybe. But I’m not the one who’s hard after pissing himself in the Hokage’s tower.” He leaned in, moving his hand faster. “How pathetic.”

Madara came with a hastily bitten-back shout. “Fuck, Tobirama….”

Tobirama groaned, moving his hand to his own crotch, and—

And Hashirama burst through the doors with a shout, “Tobi! You’ll never guess what—” All three of them froze as he took in the scene. “I—What?”

Tobirama recovered first. “Brother! I was just…helping…Madara.” He made fleeting eye contact. “He had some, ah, trouble during the, er, Clan Head meeting….”

Madara snarled. “That’s not what fucking happened! Hashirama, get the fuck out!” 

Hashirama, unfortunately, did not listen, instead whirling closer to Madara and draping himself across his back, keeping his feet well out of the puddle. “Aw, it’s okay, Mads! It happens to all of us! Those meetings sure are long, huh?” He let out a long laugh. “Come on, how about Tobes flashes us all home and we can help you get cleaned up?”

“What—I don’t need your help, you giant buffoon! Get off me!” Madara whacked him. “I’m not a child!”

“Of course not,” Tobirama agreed demurely. “That’s why I had to cut the meeting short so you wouldn’t piss yourself in front of the rest of the Clan Heads.”

Madara let out a noise that he’s pretty sure he heard a dying cat make once. “That’s not what happened!”

Tobirama looked over at his brother. “Hashirama, I will take Madara home. You attend to your duties here.”

Hashirama pouted. “Ugh, fine.” He patted Madara on the head before turning around and flouncing out of the room. “Don’t feel bad!” he chirped as he headed out the door. “It’s a natural bodily function and—”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, HASHIRAMA!” Madara bellowed. 

Next to him, Tobirama snorted. “Come on, Madara,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”


End file.
